Norma
is one of the few operas of the bel canto period that has practically
never been out of the standard repertoire. Many of the great
sopranos of the 19th and 20th centuries
have essayed the title role, from Giuditta Pasta, who was the
first Norma, via Jenny Lind up to the post-war period with singers
like Callas, Sutherland, Caballé and Scotto. Styles and approaches
have varied but the opera and especially the doom-laden high
priestess have always fascinated audiences. Complete recordings
have, however, been fairly scant and the truly recommendable
versions even fewer. Maria Callas and Joan Sutherland each recorded
it twice and Montserrat Caballé headed a starry cast on an RCA
album in the early 1970s. I think it is between these that the
competition stands.
The
present one, Sutherland and Bonynge’s first, from the mid-1960s,
has a great deal to recommend it but there are also some less
attractive features. Coming back to it after a long time I was
first struck by the – on my equipment at least – rather unattractive
sound. Recorded in Walthamstow Assembly Hall, a much used and
well-renowned venue. Under the supervision of Christopher Raeburn
and Kenneth Wilkinson, it should have been state-of-the-art
as I remember it from the LPs but this transfer had an edgy
metallic aura that made the strings sound gritty and the whole
atmosphere rather cold. By feeding the two-channel sound through
my whole surround system I managed, however, to smooth the sound-picture
considerably and ended up enjoying it. Dynamically it is impressive,
the sound of the gong, when Norma strikes the shield of Irminsul,
is mighty and the LSO play as well as they are allowed to, which
implies that I am not wholly satisfied with Bonynge’s conducting.
He opens the Sinfonia rather heavily and then chops it in pieces,
due to too many abrupt tempo changes. A comparison with Serafin
shows that the older maestro has a better feeling for tempo
relations and the whole Sinfonia seems more integrated. I also
think the admittedly quite banal male chorus in the first scene
is enthusiastic, as it should be, but also very four-square,
bumpy – un-bel canto. He makes amends with a finely balanced
reading of the sorrowful orchestral introduction to act 2 with
the cello solo beautifully shaped. Bellini’s mainly rather frail
music mustn’t be pulled about too much and I think Serafin –
in the first Callas recording – is a more natural Bellinian.
On the other hand I heard a tremendously hard-driven reading
in Berlin some months ago but thanks to the singers the opera
survived even that assault.
This
also proves that Norma, and Bellini in general, stands
and falls with the singing, and on that account the present
recording has a lot to offer. I don’t think though that Richard
Cross’s Oroveso is one of its greatest assets. He has an imposing
voice but employed with little sophistication. In his second
act solo Ah! de Tebro al giogo indegno, to be sung con
ferocia, this matters little but hearing Ezio Pinza in this
part shows what can be done, and his solo in the first scene
of the opera should be sung with a smile and some warmth – and
it isn’t. He should be credited for his steady voice, however
– most Orovesos sound as old as they look.
It
is good to hear the young Yvonne Minton in the comprimario role
of Clotilde, fresh-voiced and articulate.
I
had forgotten what an attractive singer John Alexander was.
His is a youthful voice with a light quick vibrato. He demonstrates
in his first few phrases that he is no mere bawler; he phrases
musically and with care for the text. He has lots of power in
reserve for the emotional outbreaks later in the opera, especially
in the great trio that concludes the first act, which is a feast
of glorious singing. He didn’t have much of a recording career;
besides this Norma I can only recall an Anna Bolena
with Suliotis a few years later. Maybe it was his open sound,
no covering of the tone on high notes, that caused a premature
decline – just as in the case of Giuseppe Di Stefano. On this
hearing, however, he stands out as one of the finest tenors
from the period just prior to “The Three Tenors”.
Marilyn
Horne’s Adalgisa is a marvel. Having just turned thirty she
was in the first flush of youth and her voice, more soprano
than mezzo-soprano in timbre, rings out with a freedom, a power
and a beauty that few singers in this repertoire can challenge.
Most mezzos are actually miscast in this role, which was written
for a lyric soprano. She is supposed to be young; on their first
encounter in the opera Norma addresses her as giovinetta,
which the English libretto in the booklet a little sloppily
translates “my dear”, when the proper wording is “little girl”.
Horne is the singer who comes closest to the mark, lightening
her voice properly. On Sutherland-Bonynge’s remake Adalgisa
was sung by Montserrat Caballé, who had the right timbre for
a girl but was getting too old by then. It has to be said –
not for the first time – that Horne’s hushed singing at the
opening of the duet Mira, o Norma belongs to the most
perfect singing that has been recorded – and that also goes
for most Joan Sutherland’s contribution to that scene. It is
indeed remarkable how well these two highly individual voices
blend when singing together and every nuance, every inflexion
is so attuned that only spiritual siblings could manage it.
The two ladies also sang together in numerous performances,
first in another Bellini opera, Beatrice di Tenda, at
Carnegie Hall in 1961 and Marilyn Horne’s Metropolitan debut
was as Adalgisa against Sutherland in 1970.
Joan
Sutherland herself wasn’t the most thrilling Norma, dramatically
speaking, even though her technical brilliance paid dividends
in this taxing role, but too often one lacks the bite, the intensity,
which is reduced by her somewhat droopy delivery and her hesitant
way with the text. She doesn’t always get under the skin of
her character. Casta Diva in the first act is well sung
of course but feels a little uninvolved – it was better on the
“Art of the Prima Donna” album from a few years earlier. Still
she is very good in Norma’s soliloquy in the beginning of act
2, when she contemplates murdering her children and in the big
duet with Pollione near the end of the opera, In mia man
alfin tu sei, she is obviously inspired by her partner,
just as she is in the duets with Horne.
Back,
then, to the beginning of the review and the unavoidable question:
which version should I recommend? In some respects the RCA recording
with Montserrat Caballé in the title role, Fiorenza Cossotto’s
formidable Adalgisa, a virile Placido Domingo as Pollione and
Ruggero Raimondi’s beautifully sung but too baritonal Oroveso,
is a safe card. Not too thrilling but no obvious weaknesses
either. If there is a drawback it is Carlo Felice Cillario’s
too laidback conducting, but it is a reading to live with. Callas’s
first recording, from 1954, conducted by the experienced Tullio
Serafin, is required listening for the reading of the title
role. Callas probes deeper than any other singer, and this is
the most consummate interpretation ever committed to disc. On
the other hand Ebe Stignani is too old for Adalgisa, Nicola
Rossi-Lemeni is a fairly dull Oroveso and Mario Filippeschi
has a thrilling voice but only scratches the surface of Pollione’s
personality. The later Callas version, also conducted by Serafin,
has the young Franco Corelli as possibly the most thrilling
Pollione and Christa Ludwig is an unexpected but quite inspired
choice for Adalgisa, but Callas is nowhere near her earlier
reading. The later Bonynge version sports Pavarotti in fine
fettle as Pollione and Samuel Ramey is luxurious casting as
Oroveso but both ladies are past their best.
Did
anyone get any wiser? Let’s put it this way: Cillario is slightly
too well-behaved but a well-sung version to start with; Serafin
I is a necessary complement for a full scale portrait of the
protagonist and Bonynge (the one under consideration) should
be in every collection for the marvellous duets – and John Alexander.
Synopsis and full libretto with English translation is included.
Göran
Forsling
Joan Sutherland (soprano)
– Norma; John Alexander (tenor) – Pollione; Marilyn Horne (mezzo)
– Adalgisa; Richard Cross (bass) – Oroveso; Yvonne Minton (mezzo-soprano)
– Clotilde; Joseph Ward (tenor) – Flavio;
